


Infinite and Old

by hedoro



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 13:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11014365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedoro/pseuds/hedoro
Summary: "We're all stardust." Uruha's voice is soft and gentle, a blissful lilt almost lost amongst the sheets.





	Infinite and Old

**Author's Note:**

> i may have went a little overboard with the space related angst.  
>  ha ha, idk what i'm doing with my life. thanks for reading~ ♥

Fingers ghost over his back, tiptoeing over every vertebrae. Lips brush gently over a shoulder blade, tongue trailing to and from every freckle—joining the dots, forming new constellations upon a blank canvas.

"We're all stardust." Uruha's voice is soft and gentle, a blissful lilt almost lost amongst the sheets. Aoi stops his loving assault on Uruha's skin and moves to lay beside him. Close, warm, and very much there—just how Uruha likes him to be.

His smile is soft, full of the warm ether that fuels the reactions inside Uruha's heart. And his eyes are open and honest, vast like the universe. "How so?" he questions, intent on indulging the man that he has always admired and loved.

Uruha grins, eyes bright and vulnerable. "I was watching a documentary and they said that we're the product of stars. Without them, we wouldn't be here."

Aoi feels a heartbeat, vibrant and real, under the palm that he rests over Uruha's rib cage. He leans in to catch Uruha in a kiss that forces time to stop for a second, before he pulls away and nudges their noses together.

"So stars are our parents, huh?" he wonders aloud, letting his hand travel over the expanse of Uruha's body, up and up, until it finally cups a soft cheek. Uruha frowns, leaning into Aoi's hand and presses their foreheads together. Carbon dioxide ghosts over their faces in rolling waves of equal measures.

"Well, no," he begins. "I'm saying that for us to be here right now, some poor star had to die."

"That doesn't seem so good," Aoi replies, amused.

"It isn't," Uruha speaks with conviction thick on his tongue. "A star had to blow up in a violent death and its innards had to be splattered across the universe for us to exist."

Aoi snorts against his nose and smiles widely, tearing a hole in the fabric of space and ripping Uruha's heart clear out while he's at it. Aoi had always been clumsy in his actions but Uruha isn't worried, he knows his heart is in good hands now.

Uruha wonders why the gaping wound in his chest doesn't seem to hurt. He wonders if this is what it feels like to be a star. Maybe this is what oblivion feels like; no pain, nothing. Just a knowing calm that his end was drawing closer and there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

An acceptance on a universal scale.

He stares at Aoi's face and smooths a calloused fingertip over the lines etched into skin over the years. It's the tell tale sign of age and it makes him realise that they're both getting older—that with every intake of air, they are slowly killing themselves.

There was an irony in that; by trying to delay the inevitable, they were actually speeding up the process. By trying to deny their death, they were welcoming it. By fighting to live, they were actually dying. They were a flawed design.

Perhaps it was that same irony that gave the stars their timeless beauty. Or maybe that was just humanity trying to find comfort in tragedy. The moment their hearts had started beating in their mother's wombs, it was all down hill from there.

They were barrelling through life at breakneck speed to an inevitable end. They were like asteroids careening through the icy planes of space, hurtling toward the moment where they would connect with something much bigger than themselves. Waiting for the moment when they would meet a violent demise.

For Uruha, his demise was in Aoi. He welcomed it with open arms, colliding with him time and time again, losing parts of himself left and right, pieces shattering and splintering away from his soul. Until Aoi became the centre of his universe, his very own star; seemingly infinite and old, though not very wise, he was still young—for now.

Uruha placed his hand over Aoi's and squeezed it tightly. "I'm dying, Aoi."

"Don't be so dramatic, Uru," Aoi scoffed. "You can't die, we're rock stars. We'll always be immortal."

Aoi was wrong.

The cells inside their bodies were deteriorating at a rate that their bodies were fighting hard, and failing, to stop. They would soon become faulty. Their skin was going to wither and turn sallow, erratic heart beats would eventually slow and the blood in their veins would begin to thin.

With it, their bones would eventually come to creak and their hands would turn frail. Their minds would fracture and fragment. And after that, well, they'd forget how to hold their guitars and maybe even each other's hearts.

"We're going to die," he repeats once more, scared for them both. And Uruha swears he almost sees the light in Aoi's eyes go out. Almost swears Aoi's eyes are black holes in their severity, sucking the life right out of him.

He finds it hard to breathe as the grief he feels fills the cavity in his chest. Shards of ice pierce the fleshy spaces in between his ribs and the weight of iron in his stomach drags him down like gravity.

"We're not going to die," Aoi swears to him, as if he knows everything there is to know. "You know why?"

He shakes his head as Aoi pulls him closer, until their separate halves become one whole.

They are a dying star. "Because, even if we die—"

And Aoi's eyes are old. "We are endless."

But his love is infinite.


End file.
